G-157 (8 page)

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Authors: K.M. Malloy

BOOK: G-157
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Aire laughed as she opened the door. “That’s very true. I’ll think about. Thank you for the opportunity. Have a good afternoon.”

“You too.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

Thursday March, 18, 2010

 

Population: 405

 

 

 

Thursday night had come much more quickly than Aire had expected. She was in the bathroom debating on how to wear her hair when she heard the doorbell ring.

“Crud,” she muttered.

She was dressed and her makeup was perfect, but her hair was the only thing holding her up. Normally she just ran a brush through it after emerging from the shower and let the wind decide how it should be styled. Now the one time she actually cared how it looked it refused to be coaxed into any sort of style that would hide her butchered bangs no matter how many times she curled or pinned it.  She gave up and put it into two low pony tails on either side of her neck, the ends curling to bounce and sway over Troy’s practice jersey.

“You look amazing,” he smiled when she came downstairs to greet him.

“I wish, but thank you. You look great.”


Oh you two look so adorable,” he mother smiled.

“Mom!”

“Come on, let me get a picture. Squeeze close,

she
said
, her giddiness at the occasion rivaling that of her daughter’s
. A smile beamed from Aire’s face as Troy wrapped his arm around her shoulder just before the camera flashed.
It
flashed almost a dozen more times before Aire raised her hands in protest.
“Okay, have fun you two. Remember, ten is the curfew tonight.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Aire said as she waved goodbye while Troy held the door open for her.

The night was warmer than it had been since her ride with Troy, but chill still danced in the air and their breath came out in frosty puffs as they spoke.

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring my bike,” Troy said. “I just thought it would be hard to find a parking space since everyone is going to be there tonight.”

“It’s no problem. I like walking better anyway. Besides, on the bike all I can see is the back of your head.”

“That’s very true,” Troy
grinned
. “And I can’t see any of you.”

She smiled, thankful her cheeks were already red from the cold and hid the flush that began to seep across them. “So
,
how do you think our project on the Africans is going to come out?”

“I think it will be pretty good. We worked really hard on it. Besides, you get straight A’s all the time anyway.”

“Oh, speaking of hard work, guess what happened the other day?”

“What?”

“Dr. Caughlin offered me a job as an apprentice.”

“Really? Aire that’s wonderful,” he said. “So does that mean you’ve stopped all this college nonsense?” She shot him a frightened look, and felt the color drain from her face. He smiled down at her. “Didn’t think I knew about that, huh? News travels fast around here.”

She averted her eyes to the sidewalk. “That’s not news, but no, I still want to go to a university. The apprenticeship is like a backup plan, I guess you could say.”

“Oh. Well, a guy can always hope
,
right?”

Aire shrugged her shoulders and sucked in her breathe as they turned onto Bourbon Street, thankful for the distraction
as they gazed upon the festivities of the kick off dinner sprinkled over the City Hall lawn. “It’s even more beautiful than last year,” she whispered.

Troy’s fingers slipped around her own, dwarfing her hand and bathing it in warmth.
A warm flush ran through her legs at the touch of his hand. “Yes it is,” he whispered. A euphoric comfort settled over her as he guided
her through the ivy archway into the small world of wonder.

The couple attracted sideways smiles and more winks than she’d ever seen as they walked hand
in
hand across the lawn, admiring the decorations of blue and gold lights wrapped along shop walls and roofs, around trees and light posts. The gazebo was aglow in cool shades of gold as miniature motorcycle lights
did lazy spins
in the early spring breeze. Picnic tables dressed in checkered table clothes hid the newly emerging green lawn, and people hovered round the buffet tables heaping food onto their plates. Streamers fluttered on the rich aroma of
oysters and fried chicken and fresh marinara sauce
as laughter and shouts of hellos competed with the high school band playing
Beethoven
in the background.

“Isn’t it fantastic?” Melissa asked, wrapping her arm around Gary’s as they came to greet them at the archway.

“It’s so beautiful,” Aire said. “Another perfect kick off to The Moto.”

Troy reached his hand out to Gary. “Hey, good luck Saturday.”

“You too,” Gary said as he shook Troy’s hand. “It doesn’t matter who wins, it’s still going to be a blast.”

“I’m sure it will. Let’s get some food,” Troy said. “I’m starving.”

“Me too,” Melissa shouted over the music.
“I can’t wait to get my hands on some chicken.”

Plates full, drinks in hand, the two couples found their place among friends at the high school table and sat down to enjoy the joviality. Noisy banter and mindless chatter was exchanged under a sky full of stars for over an hour before the
mayor hushed the crowd for the kick off speech. Several calls for attention and two tweaks of the microphone later, the town had quieted enough for his smooth voice to be heard over the cacophony.

“I wanted to thank all of you for coming out tonight to show your support for our competitors,” Mayor Jenkins said, smiling at the bright faces of his city
looking up
at him. “I also wanted to give a very big thank you to
Maggie’s for the contribution of delicious fried foods; to The Zesty Tomato for the fantastic array of pastas; and to The Restaurant for all the wonderful exotic entrees. And of course, let’s not forgot the bakery and deli for the breads and finger foods you worked so hard on to supply for our glorious festivities.
And last but not least, a heartfelt thank you to all the volunteers who worked so hard to decorate for this event.
Thank you to everyone who put so much time and hard work into making tonight not only possible, but beautifully perfect.
A big round of applause to everyone.”

Whistles and cheers of elation and thanks filled
the district
as
hundreds of excited hands
clapped with pride.

“Now,” Jenkins continued when the noise had died down. “I know everyone here takes the races very seriously, but let’s not forget that it’s all fun and games. Let’s try to-“

“Shut up!”

Shocked g
asps fluttered into the trees as John’s Town
searched the crowd to see who had commanded the Mayor into silence.

Mayor Jenkins cleared his throat and continued on. “Now, let’s all try to do our best, but above all, remember to have good sportsmanship. Everyone wants to-“

“Stick a pile of poop in your mouth you dirty pig lover!”

The gasps were even louder this time, and a cacophonous din erupted across the tables. Mayor Jenkins remained calm as he scanned the crowd. “Who said that?”

Silence followed. The voice had belonged to a male who was no longer a boy but not yet a man.

“Again,” Jenkins said, his voice smooth and unwavering. “Who
-“

“Shut up!” the young male voice screamed again.

The table in front of Aire began to vibrate.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

Aire’s water glass toppled over with the force of the vibration. She felt Troy grasp her arm as she stood up to see where the source of the madness was eminating from.

Twenty seats down, Dustin Miller was slamming his fists against the table and screaming at the top of his lungs. Bowie Sandoval and Bret Stevens, who sat on either side of him, stood up and backed away from the irate boy.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Dustin screamed as his fists smashed against the table. His face was throbbing red and his eyes bulged as he screamed at the Mayor. Several more people stood up and moved away from the boy, their eyes wide with confusion.

“Shut up!” Dustin screamed again. “Shu-“

The rest of the words caught in his throat, his fists frozen in midair. A heavy silence filled the air as more people began to stand up from their seats to see what was happening. The kids who had moved away were now beginning to slowly move in on the frozen boy.

“Shut up!” Dustin clicked back into animation as he brought his fists down again, causing those around him to jump back in fright.

“Shut up!”

Aire’s hands flew to her mouth as the boy slammed his face against the table, sending more people reeling away from him. Troy stood up and nudged himself in between her and Dustin. She craned her neck around him to watch in horror as Dustin continued to scream and began to bash his face against the table.

“Shut up!”

The boy’s face was dripping with blood. His nose was bent in a crooked angle where it had been fractured in several places. His lips had swelled, and with every scream Aire could see several more gaps forming between his teeth as they broke and chipped with each impact. The glass from the plate had cut his face to pieces, and Aire’s only thought was,
please, oh please don’t let him get glass in his eyes. I’d lose it if he raised his face and saw two black holes where his eyes had been with fluid dripping down his face, oh please.

“Move!”

She turned to the new voice that sounded above Dustin’s screams and saw Mike Hadley pushing through the crowd thickening around the boy.

“Move! Excuse me, move.” Mike pushed and shoved his way through until he entered the clearing around the boy. He marched towards him, his face strong yet fearful. “Dustin!”

The boy whipped his head around. Mike’s step faltered a moment at the sight of Dustin’s mutilated face. “Shut up!”

Mike’s arms wrapped around the boy’s torso just before he smashed his face down again. A sneer spread across Dustin’s mangled lips as he thrashed and kicked to escape Mike’s grip. “Dustin! Stop it. Stop it!”

“Shut up!”

“Calm down, buddy. It’s okay. It’s me, Mike. You’re alright man. Calm down and we’ll talk about this.”

Dustin’s thrashings began to calm. The more Mike spoke, the more the boy stilled, until the recognition came back into his eyes and he began to cry. “Mike? Mike, what happened?” he cried as he rested his head against Mike’s chest.

“It’s okay, man. You just went a little loony for a sec, that’s all. Look, here comes your family to take you home.”

Dustin nodded and stood on wobbling legs as his parents wrapped their arms around his shoulders and began to guide him home. “I’m sorry, everyone,” he called as they stepped off the lawn and onto the sidewalk. “I’m sorry.”

The crowd began to disperse as people went back to their seats, whispering among one another as they did. Aire felt her hands shake as Troy coaxed her back into her chair.
What just happene
d,
her mind raced. She could feel her meal begin to bubble and lurch in her stomach. She felt light-headed as the Mayor cleared his throat and continued.

“I’m sure none of you will hold that unpleasant conniption against Dustin. He’s very excited to be racing in the Beginning Pros this year, and you all well know how giddiness leads one to
do
the most peculiar things. Now, as I was saying.”

The tension was gone, and smiles and applause bounced on the crowd once more. Aire did not join in, her thoughts rippling around the peculiar incident. She looked through the sea of grins, pondering why they could so easily resume their gaiety while she alone could not make sense of the incident or the mayor’s logic behind it.
Jenkins the puppet master
, she thought. He continued on with his speech to the people, receiving applause and laughter when commanded. To her it seemed a scene in a play, each character stepping to their mark and coming in on Jenkins’ queue despite the breach in his speech of pretty words. All of them
were nothing more than
lolling grain
s
of salt in the sea, ebbing and flowing as the tide commanded
with no thought or will of their own
. The haze of the moment was surreal, her body feeling as
though she were
floating in a dream.

She jumped when Troy patted her arm and motioned his head towards Jenkins. Rubbing her eyes, she stood up and let her hands partake in applause with the others. The end of the speech signaled the end of the dinner, and soon the two couples found themselves on their way to the pond at Duck Park to enjoy their extra hour out in the evening.

They stood on the muddy banks looking for rocks to skip and
talking
about the line up for The Moto this year. Aire sat on a boulder, her hands buried deep in her pockets, her mind buried deeper in her thoughts. The rock skipping
competition between them was well under way before she found her voice.

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